


if you're looking for something to love (you gotta let me know)

by coastcitytourism



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Fluff, I'll tag as I go, M/M, Short
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-26
Updated: 2019-08-26
Packaged: 2020-09-26 20:22:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20395597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coastcitytourism/pseuds/coastcitytourism
Summary: A collection of scenes/ficlets about Daniel and Max, some inspired by different prompts





	if you're looking for something to love (you gotta let me know)

**Author's Note:**

> okay disclaimer this is a work of fiction, please don't post elsewhere without my permission, blah blah blah.  
i have lots of short scenes and stories about these two that i yearn to write out so uhh they'll go here! recommend prompts if you want, i'm down for most things! will also add tags as I go  
title is from heart and soul by twin atlantic, which they used for some reason in the 2018 RBR highlight reel and it makes me FEEL

All it takes it one quiet room away from the public, and the media. A little bit of privacy goes a long way in their world- but it's something they're rarely granted. Between all of the members of the teams, the ones that would ask too many questions, and the prying eyes of the public who would undoubtedly have altered opinions, they don't get much time to see each other these days.  
They don't get their privacy until after the celebrations in Hockenheim, after Max has returned from the podium sticky with champagne and sweat and Daniel swears he's never seen anything so beautiful in his life. He's huddled up on the tiny couch in Max's driver room, having skillfully managed to avoid any members of the Red Bull team that would throw him more than a confused glance. Some of them are probably used to it, he thinks, but it's better to be safe than sorry. Besides, he'd rather not have to talk to anyone about his early retirement- there's only one person he cares to see right now.  
Max plops down next to him and works his fingers through the laces of his racing shoes, still a bit twitchy from the adrenaline running through his body. Every part of him feels both exhausted and on-edge, and he thinks it's probably just post-win paranoia making him think that Daniel is staring at him and-  
Ah, no. The Aussie is looking at him with lidded chocolate eyes and a loopy smile. He looks as starstruck as Max feels, but Max doesn't even get the chance to completely process exactly what he is feeling before Daniel has pushed him flat on the sofa and is kissing the lights out of him.  
Max tastes like alcohol and sugar and sweat and Daniel is intoxicated, loves everything about it. One of Daniel's hands finds its way to the cropped hair at the nape of Max's neck, the other gently cradling his jaw and cheekbone. Max's stubble tickles the palm of Daniel's hand- and Daniel swears he's never seem Max look better than he did up on that damn podium. He loves the way that he can still hold Max down even as the younger of the two has bulked out into his frame a bit more, loves that he can have Max Verstappen, one of the most headstrong drivers on the grid, completely wrapped around his finger. He kisses the younger driver hard, but Max just kisses back harder. Damn competition.  
Daniel pulls back to let them breathe, smiling in a rather self-righteous way, one hand braced against Max's chest and the other stroking the Dutch jawline mindlessly. Max looks equally pleased, head tossed back carelessly and eyes squinting closed with his smile. He raises his head, laughs breathlessly.  
"You're in a good mood for having a DNF," he teases Daniel, tugging the Aussie back down to his height for a quick peck on the lips, "Better than any I've ever seen before."  
Daniel's face grows serious for a split second, but he shakes it away and purposefully forces a smile onto his face. He's upset, of course, but the DNF isn't anything new for him since he started wearing the black and yellow. It still sucks- but less than it did at Red Bull, where he knew he had equipment that otherwise had a fighting chance. He's happy for Max either way- and really, Renault's shortcomings are only a minor nuisance when he has a certain Dutch driver underneath him.  
"I'm just glad you won," Daniel settles for saying, instead of attempting to explain away his disappointment. Max's face falls into a practiced neutral, and he looks up at Daniel as if to say "are you really sure?"  
And Daniel is fine, really. He's had more catastrophic and infuriating DNFs, and even if he does want to lament on the shitty Renault engine and be violently angry later on he has a plane ride and another few days away from Max to do it. God, away from Max- it's not exactly an uncommon situation these days for them to be apart, but thinking about it right now makes Daniel ache.  
He blinks the thoughts away, remembers where exactly he is right now, cradles Max's jaw in his hands, the gentleness of the touch acting in juxtaposition to the passion of every other aspect of their relationship, kisses away any of the questions starting to form on the younger driver's lips.  
"Max, seriously, it's fine," Daniel whispers into Max's mouth, "I am so fucking proud of you."  
Max doesn't quite have control of the way his face heats up, but he does have enough dignity to hide it in the crook of Daniel's neck, his stubble gently scratching against the tanned skin there. His breath puffs out warm against Daniel's collarbone, setting a calm rythym for the room. He's won before, many times actually- and even with Daniel as his boyfriend- but hearing those words this time feels different. There is no jealousy, no wistfulness or anger in Daniel's words, and Max doesn't feel the need to childishly bite back and be a smartass. The phrase feels measured and genuine- and Max is amazed at how their time apart has matured not only Max himself but their previously volatile relationship. The passion remains- but all of the tension caused by their teammate rivalry has melted away, left a more thoughtful and meaningful impression of itself on them both. Less than a year ago this victory would have meant a yelling match and a rather heated round in bed, but now both men just seem happy to celebrate and mourn and enjoy the brief moments of respite they are granted with each other.  
"Daniel," Max starts, unsure of what else to say and looking back up to grin, "Go back to my hotel after this?"  
Daniel chuckles, forces himself to sit back up and Max to do the same. He's humid with sweat, even back in his team shirt and shorts, knows Max must be practically dripping in his race suit. He ruffles Max's tangled quiff, smiles, grabs Max's hand and squeezes it.  
"Of course. But uh...go take a shower first. You may be a winner but you smell like hot ass," Daniel chuckles, and Max laughs loudly, gives Daniel a soft smack on the shoulder and stands up so he can go scrub the champagne residue off his skin, but not before plopping the silly 1st place cap on Daniel's head and landing a sloppy kiss to his cheek. He grins, whole face scrunching up in bliss at the moment they just shared, before grabbing a spare set of clothes and cheekily giving Daniel the finger as he heads out for the shower.  
Daniel sighs, touches the cap Max placed on top of his hair- and all he can think is, God, I've never been happier to not finish a race.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! feedback is always, always appreciated and encouraging!


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